Be Mine (Jackson Boys 2)

“You two still live together?” There’s an edge of suspicion in his voice.

“Yeah, and what about it? You told me to look after her.”

“I suppose I did. Do me a favor. Don’t tell Charlotte I’m coming. She’ll make up an excuse to be somewhere else if she knows.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

“Put it on your books with all my other debts,” my brother says in a disgustingly cheerful voice. “I’ll see you soon.”

I toss the phone onto the coffee table with a frustrated sigh. Whatever plan I have to snare Lainey will need to be put into motion immediately because once Nate gets to town, it’s gonna be a big-ass mess.

Chapter Twelve

Lainey

“Mommy, I need the bread! I need the bread!” Cassidy says breathlessly, having sprinted all the way to the pond the moment we entered the park. I hand her the heels from loaves we ate. “Come on, Uncle Nick.” She tugs on his hand. He goes willingly, adjusting his ball cap.

I’m not sure the disguise is going to work. The weather is nice, and the park is filling up. Soon there won’t be an empty space on the grass. I plop down on the edge of the pond. The trees are starting to bud. I pluck some long grasses and weave them together while I watch Nick and Cassidy.

I’m not sure how I ended up spending my Saturday here with the two of them. I thought that it was going to be a girls’ weekend, but like the day so long ago, Nick found a way to tag along. Charlie conveniently had another request from the Spurs basketball player that she absolutely had to complete that afternoon. I get why Charlie made herself scarce. She thinks if I spend enough time with Nick, I’ll fall in love. She’s probably right.

Nick, on the other hand, confuses me. Surely there are better things for this young, hot man to be doing other than naming ducks with my five-year-old daughter.

“That one’s Mr. Happy.” Nick’s muscled arm stretches out to point toward a plain brown duck paddling furiously toward the huge chunk of bread floating in the water. The motion emphasizes the definition in his biceps. His T-shirt stretches snugly across a broad chest that arrows into a narrow waist. I know he works out and that his body is supposed to be tight and fit, but it’s still addicting to look at.

I force my eyes to Cassidy who is doing a poor job of tearing the bread into bits. She gives up and tosses the entire piece of bread in. Three ducks furiously paddle to the food and peck at each other until a small brown one scares the other two off.

“I think it’s a girl, Uncle Nick.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head. “It’s handsome, so it has to be a boy.”

“Girls are the brown ducks.” Cassidy frowns. “Don’t you know this?”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” Cassidy places her hands on her hips, indignant that she’s being questioned. “Mommy said, and she’s never wrong.”

Nick casts me an amused look over his shoulder. I melt inside. “Never?” he muses.

“Never,” Cassidy replies emphatically. “Throw your bread over there. That one needs some food.”

“She does look scrawny,” Nick admits, getting the gender right this time. Cassidy claps her hands in approval.

In short order, they have all the ducks in the pond at their feet but no more bread. Without the food, Cassidy loses interest in the ducks.

“Can I play on the slide?” she yells as she runs toward the kiddie gym.

“Sure.” I don’t think she hears me.

“You didn’t bring enough bread,” Nick complains as he lowers himself to the ground.

“I brought a whole loaf.” To my left, I hear a couple of people whisper about Nick. The words “Super Bowl” and “Mustang” and “quarterback” are loud enough that even the subject of their conversation can hear them, but Nick pretends he doesn’t.

He plucks the grass crown out of my hands and sets it on top of his cap. “Next time we’ll need at least three loaves. There are a lot of ducks here.”

I try not to be charmed by the green circlet resting on top of his navy hat, but it’s damn hard. “If you feed them too much, they’ll try to follow you home.”

“There are worse problems to have.” He plucks a long strand of grass and sticks it in the corner of his mouth.

“Like having everyone stare at you when you go out?” I ask quietly.

“Nah. Like having cancer. Like losing someone you love. Like not having a family.”

An ache in my chest develops as the thought of Nick and his own child at a park like this fills my head. Someday, he’s going to have his own family, and despite the pain that notion brings, I want that for him. Because Cassidy’s the best thing that ever happened to me, Chip notwithstanding. Nick would be a tremendous dad. I can’t really figure out why he’s not settled down yet, particularly since he doesn’t seem too interested in sleeping with every jersey chaser that shoves her number under his hotel room door.